


Come Angels Of The Lord

by Atomic_Hydrogen, mcrnudes



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Catholic Frank, Catholic!Frank, Confusion, F/M, M/M, Not everyone is gay, Religion, Roman Catholicism, Underage Drinking, a nice bert mccracken, cigarette smokin teenagers, gay ass shit, gerard likes wearing skirts, i would be too if i was lindsey, lindsey is autosexual, okay not a lot of gay stuff, pretty fuckin unoriginal, teenager feelins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-02-05 17:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1827037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atomic_Hydrogen/pseuds/Atomic_Hydrogen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcrnudes/pseuds/mcrnudes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard likes to go to Sunday Mass in drag.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. .shit.

Frank's eyes scanned the basement. He was aching for a smoke. He hasn't had one in three days and he knows his father hides them in the basement. Smoking was something Frank hated about himself but he couldn't quit. Not just yet. He tells himself that other kids are doing much more worse things and he shouldn't feel so bad. Yet, he still hasn't even told father Tracey about his little addiction yet.

Frank finally found his dad's expensive pack of cigarettes. Fucking finally. Frank swears that,even if they didn't talk about it,his dad knows he smokes. When Frank asks to go for a walk, his father gives him this fucking scary parent look,like he knows that he's going out to smoke. But hey, if he doesn't say anything about it, Frank is fine. However, if Frank's mother found out, he'd be dragged to the church by his ear and grounded until he turned 45.

"Frank!" His mother called. Frank quickly shoved the cigarettes in his schoolbag. Frank ran up the stairs and was greeted by his mother. "You have around 15 minutes to get to school." She said whilst pinching his cheek. Frank chuckled. He actually hates it when she treated him like that, but he'd rather not get grounded so he kept his mouth shut.

The walk to school was short. Frank had decided to take a different path instead of the one he usually takes. He was getting tired of walking down his street and Mrs. Johnson doesn't mind people cutting through the side of her house.

Frank wished he could smoke while walking to school. But it's too risky and things get around quick in this town. One time Frank held a girl's hand in seventh grade. He remembers that day like it was just last week. Frank had heard that Alice Bevan liked him from a classmate. He had no idea what to do. So at lunch he sat beside her and shared a pack of Gold Fish with her. Alice asked him to walk with her to the lockers, and Frank said yes since his locker was near her's. She grabbed Frank's sweaty hand and held it all the way to the other side of the school. Frank's mom knew by the end of the day.

When Frank finally made it to his school, he noticed how different it was this year. New students scattered the lawn in front of the school. Frank didn't have much friends. In fact, Frank only had one friend.

Frank really fucking wishes for a smoke right now. Fuck, what he'd do to smoke in peace. The only times he can really smoke without worrying is when he's at Dewees' house. His mother is totally alright with him smoking and buys Dewees packs when he runs out. Dewees is someone who Franks mother thinks is an angel sent to earth by God but in reality Dewees is a total fucking wild animal.

When Frank couldn't take the feeling anymore he gave in and walked around to the back of the school and lit up a cigarette. Frank loved the way the smoke looked when he exhaled. He thought of it as he just ate a bunch of souls and let them out so they can find their bodies.

Frank checked his phone and cursed when he saw the time. He rushed the rest of his smoke and when he finished it, he didn't even bother hiding the bud.

Whenever Frank smokes he gets light headed so he was tripping everywhere. That cigarette was a bad idea. He can smell himself and he's pretty sure Sister Claire smells it too.

-

"I just don't understand why they would start school on a Friday." said Dewees. Frank chuckled. Dewees grabbed a few fries from Frank's plate and shoved them all in the ketchup. "Got any plans for tonight?" Dewees asked with a mouthful of fries. Frank was about to open his mouth to speak, but Dewees interrupted him. "If it's anything that's not with me, then you're coming with me." Frank didn't say anything. He wouldn't have a choice anyways. Frank asked what they were doing but he only got a 'Just be ready by 7' and a pat on the back.

Frank got up and threw the remnants of his food away. The fries were too soggy to eat anyways.

He sighed and opened up his locker. It wasn't anything special,in fact it was quite boring. Most of the kids decorate their lockers, taping photographs ripped from magazines and polaroid's wasted on something stupid, like a lamp or a blurry picture taken at a party. But Frank's locker had absolutely nothing. Just books and a few extra pencils. Frank grabbed his Math book and closed his locker.

Today's going to be a long day.

**

Frank barely made it inside his house. That's how exhausted he was. He thought he was going to pass out on the walk home. Fuck, was he ever tired. He wanted to collapse right at the door. Words couldn't explain how tired he was. So his mom went into total parent mode and sent him straight to bed. Sleep was what he needed. He barely slept the night before. And,fuck,sleep just felt so good. It was probably the most satisfying feeling ever.

-

When Frank woke up, he hoped he had missed whatever Dewees was planning, but unfortunately he woke up at 6:43. Just in time. Frank groaned and rubbed his eyes. He fell asleep in his school uniform, which was now covered in wrinkles. Kind of like how Rose looked like in Titanic. The old lady version of Rose, of course. Frank quickly took off his school pants and replaced them with whatever he found in his closet. Frank looked down and noticed he was still in his school shirt. So he quickly untied his black tie (which he slept in. Frank has a bad habit of doing that.) and put on his red tie. Frank rolled up his sleeves and then put on his favourite skeleton gloves.

He looked in the mirror that hung across from his bed. He was in desperate need for a haircut. His hair was beginning to reach the end of his ears, and the back- holy shit, the back was long enough to put in a short pony tail. Maybe even little pigtails. Frank was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the familiar honk of Dewees shitty car. Frank quickly shoved his smokes and lighter in his front pocket. He then ran down the stairs and announced he's going out. His parents nodded, not taking their eyes off the TV.

Frank opened the door to his house and took in a deep breath. Dewees car smelled horrible, and Frank wanted to take in as much clean air as he can before he had to sit in there for God knows how long. After a few seconds of taking in fresh air, Frank opened the passenger door and flopped down. Frank popped open the glove box and looked through the CDs.

And Dewees said, "Oh, we won't need any music. We're almost there." which made Frank think. He had no idea what Dewees has planned, but he can't back out now. Frank can't just open the car door and walk back home. If he could, he would have already done it. Frank put the CDs back in the glove box. Where the fuck was Dewees taking him?

The car stopped and snapped Frank out of his worried thoughts. They were parked on a packed street. Seriously, Frank doesn't know how Dewees got them parked on this street. Dewees does a lot of stuff that Frank doesn't understand. Frank got out of the vehicle and took in his surroundings. The sky was drizzling, making Frank's hair damp. The two boys walked a while and stopped right in front of a shit brown house. The house had teens drinking outside and Frank could hear the thump of the music from the driveway. Frank had only been to a party once in his life and he got ditched. He wasn't looking forward to being ditched again. The two boys walked in the house. Well actually, Dewees went in first and two minutes later Frank followed him.

The house smelled like beer and sweat. It reminded Frank of that time his dad came home late. He had missed supper, and oh God, Frank's mom was so worried. She barely ate her food.

Anyways, Frank walked around the first level of the house. Things weren't really wild, just a bunch of teenagers drinking and dancing. But it was only 7:15, and things were bound to get crazy.

Frank looked at the family photos that hung on the walls and recognized the boy in the pictures as Pete Wentz. He goes to Frank's school, but was barely seen in class. Frank sees him in the washrooms sometimes, usually smoking pot.

Frank decided it was alright to drink one beer so he went to the kitchen and dug around in the fridge. There were a lot of hard liquors in the fridge and it took forever for Frank to find a beer. So when Frank had gotten a hold of the bottle more people were pouring in. And that made Frank feel more relaxed in a way. Or maybe it was the pot fumes relaxing him. Who knows. Frank twisted off the cap (which hurt his hand, by the way) and took a giant swig that made him feel weird. The beer tasted awful. Like rotten apples. And it made him gag. Frank finished that beer and wanted to try the harder stuff. So he started off with something that looked like it could be whisky. Frank remembered Dewees mixing it with Coca Cola before, so he did that. He wasn't sure if he put too much Cola in it though.

Eventually Frank got wasted and it didn't take long before he forgot how to light a lighter. He was sitting in the backyard, fumbling with the lighter. Frank doesn't even know how one can forget how to light one. It's so simple. All you have to do is- oh. Frank remembers now. He didn't forget, his lighter ran out of fluid. He was doing it right all this time.

Frank cursed. That was his only lighter and he really needs a smoke. Frank looked around the yard. There were a few other people sitting around, though they were in their own group and Frank seriously didn't want to talk to other people.

So Frank kept trying to light his cigarette with the empty lighter.

"Need a light?"

Frank looked up and almost dropped his smoke. Standing in front of him was a beautiful man. He looked like he hadn't showered in weeks. He smelled like liquor, cigarettes, pot and oh God, sweat.

Frank nodded.

The stranger said: "It'll cost you." Which made Frank really drop his cigarette. The strange man in front of him chuckled and sat down Indian style next to Frank.

"How much?" Frank asked, ready to grab his wallet. That caused the man next to Frank to laugh again.

"Just your time." Said the man. Frank exhaled internally. His heart rate went back to normal, and he had no idea where his cigarette went. "What do you smoke?" The dude asked.

"Whatever I can find." Frank said, and immediately wanted to take those words back. Now the weird guy sitting next to him isn't going to want to talk to Frank anymore. Fucking idiot.

"I'm Gerard." The man next to him said.

Frank looked at Gerard and introduced himself. They shook hands and started talking about music. Frank wasn't so sure how they got to music, but he was digging it.

When they finally got talking about Iron Maiden, Gerard found Franks cigarette and they shared it.

"Wait, I don't even know how old you are." said Frank, blowing out smoke at the same time.

"21, you?" Gerard said, which caused Frank sigh. He was hoping Gerard would be younger.

"Sixteen. A shitty age to be."

"Oh fuck. I remember when I was sixteen." Gerard said, looking forward.

"Yeah? What did you do?"

"Give head to boys in the bathroom and sneak into bars. Nothing really changed. I got an ID now, so I don't have to sneak in anymore." Frank nodded. "What do you do?" Gerard asked.

"Nothing. Being sixteen sucks. You can't do anything." Frank said, and he was 100% sure he sounded like a whiny baby when he said it.

Gerard replied "You can do pretty much everything when you're sixteen! You just gotta have confidence. I'm not sayin' you should get married at sixteen but still."

"Wow." Frank hadn't thought like that before. He always thought about church and what would happen if he got caught smoking. Frank shifted so his body was facing Gerard. "I'm thirsty." Frank stated. Gerard moved and now they were sitting directly across from each other. Their knees were touching and that sent tingles all the way up Frank's legs. Gerard took out a flask, took a sip and then handed it to Frank. Frank drank at least half of it. It tasted like bug repellent and made Frank scrunch his face for a few seconds.

The two boys drank, and Frank got more drunk than ever. They ended up playing a game of 21 questions.

"First concert?" Frank asked. Frank was so interested in Gerard. He was good at keeping conversations going and- fuck- he's also not that bad looking. In fact, Gerard was fucking hot for a dude. He can even pull off the 'I haven't showered in two weeks' look.

"Iron Maiden. It was amazing. The guy next to me even bought me a few cups of beer." Gerard answered. "What about you?"

Frank didn't know what to do. He had never been to a concert other than stupid school concerts. Should he lie? No... Gerard will know he's lying somehow and then never let him forget about it. But he can't exactly say he's never been to one either, because that's fucking lame and Gerard will end the conversation right there.

Fuck it.

"Never been to one." Frank said and Gerard raised his eyebrows.

"Are you serious?" Gerard asked, not believing Frank. Frank nodded his head. "Well, there's a local band playing at The Grave next week and you're coming with me." Gerard said. Woah. Frank doesn't know what he should say. Should he say thank you? Should he say okay? Fuck, no one's ever done this to him before. Frank always knew what to say in conversations.

"What kind of music do they play?" Frank asked. He wanted his clothes to match the genre. Knowing Frank, he'd go to the show in a suit. Fuck, he even went to a house party in his school shirt and tie. Jesus Christ.

"I would say punk, but not punk, you know?"

Frank nodded and asked what to wear. He felt stupid for asking that. God, he must of sounded like a fucking girl. Gerard told him that anything would be fine.

And Gerard asked him if he knew where The Grave was. Frank felt so fucking embarrassed. He lives in the suburbs and hasn't set a foot out of the area in years.

"It's fine if you don't know where, I could pick you up." Gerard said. Frank nodded and gave Gerard his address. Frank nods too much. He should stop before his fucking head falls off.

"Shit, what time is it?" Frank asked. He had to find Dewees.

Gerard looked at his watch (who even wears watches anymore?) and said, "11:37". Frank stood up. All Frank really wanted to do was stay with Gerard.

"It was nice talking to you, Gerard."

-

It's Sunday morning now and Frank is getting ready for church. He looks in the mirror and swears at his own reflection. Shit. He's going to church with a fucking mohawk. On Friday he must’ve gotten pretty damn wasted on whatever Gerard gave him and shaved the sides of his head while Dewees was passed out on the host’s couch.

All anyone really has to say about Frank’s new hairstyle is 'wow', and not in the “Wow that drunk mohawk looks amazing” way either.

“Frank! Come on, we’re going to be late for church!”

His mother’s outburst snaps Frank out of his little mohawk-induced trance.

“Coming!”

While in the car, Frank’s father leans back and takes a short sniff in Frank’s direction, then leans toward his wife.

“Honey, you know my last three packs of cigarettes have gone missing.”

His dad’s calm words make Frank go rigid. All he can think is ‘Fuck,fuck,fuck he knows’ until his father leans back once again and ruffles Frank’s newly styled hair.

“But I’m sure our little church boy here would never do something of the sort. It’s probably those damn rats again.”

Once they arrived at church, all Frank could think about was that strangely hot guy at the party on Friday. He always wondered just how anyone could pull off the whole “homeless” look without freaking anyone out. God knows Frank couldn't do it.

Frank is pulled out of his thoughts once again by the priest coming to shake his hand.

“How are you Frank? Is your recent bible study going well?”

Frank nods, then immediately slaps himself mentally for it. He’s gotta stop nodding at every little question and actually try to be vocal once in a while. But right as Frank opens his mouth to speak, the priest moves on to the next person.

Frank notices this next person as well. Or, he notices as much as he can see. Which is the back of a dark maroon jacket and beautiful raven hair. And Frank must have really been ‘noticing’ this nice-looking person, because by the time they had to stand and take communion, Frank was still staring at this mysterious person.

One of the reasons Frank was looking though, is not because of how striking this girl (Frank assumes it’s a girl anyway) looks from the back, but because he thought he knew everyone at his church. Maybe they’re new? No. He recognizes the jacket. Maybe he should go talk to her.

By the time church is halfway over and it’s time for communion, Frank’s thoughts are directed back at Gerard and the party. He softly shakes his head to clear the thoughts of the strange man from the party and goes back to sit down with his family in the pews, just in time for receiving the peace.

“Peace be with you.”

“And also with you”

“Hey Frank”

“Yes mom?”

“See that pretty girl in the jacket over there?”

Frank directs his attention to where his mother’s finger is pointing out across the pews and is startled to see the raven-haired girl from earlier. He nods at his mother to affirm that he has seen her, then mentally slaps himself for nodding again.

“What about her?”

“Oh, I don’t know... I just think you two would look cute together.” Frank’s mom’s voice pitches high as she says the word cute, making a few churchgoers around them turn their heads. This succeeds in embarrassing Frank. His mother continues.

“You should go talk to her, once church ends. There’s only about three minutes left.”

Frank nods once again. He usually wouldn't agree to a setup by his mother, but from what he’s seen, this girl is gorgeous. So as the priest gives a last blessing, he begins the march over to her.

Frank taps the mystery girl on the shoulder, but when she turns around, Frank stumbles back a bit by the realization that this dark-haired beauty is not, in fact, a girl.

“Holy shit, Gerard?”

“Oh, hey. Don’t I make just the prettiest girl? I heard you and your mom talking about me.” Gerard says in an eerily singsong voice.

Frank nods slowly, but he still thinks that Gerard makes a hotter dude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello tori here!!!! thank you rabbiaeamore13 !!!!! thanks a lot!!!! woo!!!!


	2. HAEMOGLOBIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello thank u again rabbiaeamore13 you a homie  
> oh AND just to clear some shit up, frank steals his dads cigarettes but when he can't, he goes and picks cigarette buds off the ground. nasty. 
> 
>  
> 
> torixx

Frank thinks about Gerard a lot now. He thinks of how Gerard’s skirt swished when he walked out of the church and how beautiful he looked with the red lipstick that made his lips look plump.

And over the next few days Frank still couldn't get his mind off of Gerard and his apparent cross-dressing fetish. He often found himself wondering about what it would feel like to wear women's clothing, how nice it made Gerard look and how good he would look, but then hurriedly snapped himself out of those thoughts .

Frank has thought of dipping into his mother's makeup collection . But Frank is scared as shit that his mom will know that he has put on her makeup. So he got Dewees to buy him some lipstick and eyeliner. Well, Dewees said he bought it, but Frank highly doubts that.

Frank had been a good little church boy for most of his life, or at least ever since he first heard his parents arguing. It had probably been about some trivial thing, Frank couldn't remember, but that night, considering he couldn't turn to his parents for help, he tried consulting the bible. Since then, his parent’s little arguments had developed into full shouting matches, and Frank turned more and more to Catholicism for consolation.

Things at school have started to go better. He made a friend,Lindsey. Frank thinks she's really cool. She's is really good at art stuff (she draws really gruesome things that gives her daily meetings with the school's councilor) and she does these scary ass back-bends – that scare the shit out of the nuns – at random moments. She decorates Frank's locker with drawings since she thought the tiny locker looked sad. Lindsey is a little bit older than Frank though, so he doesn't get to see her in school that often. But on some days when nothing important is going on in school, they'll ditch and hang out at the local record store.

Today was one of those days.

"What do skirts feel like?" Frank asked Lindsey.

Lindsey responded with a "Fabric and shit." and then passed Frank the cigarette they were sharing. Lindsey started talking about scaring the shit out of Sister Edna, and then went into extreme detail on how horrified her face looked. "She looked like the Devil himself walked in the room and asked her to dance! It was hilarious!" Lindsey laughed.

They finished off the remainder of the cigarette and walked into the record store. The guy with the big hair was working today which Frank silently thanked God for. The other cashier was usually very rude and didn't like it when Frank and Lindsey walked around the store for a good hour and bought nothing. That guy always gave them dirty looks and bitched at them for not being in class.

The guy with the fro just jokes about not being in class,so he's cool.

"Skipping class again, Lindsey? You know if you keep this up you won't graduate" poofy hair dude said and laughed.

Lindsey replied "I don't need school for my future." which caused the guy to laugh again. Frank walked around to the middle of the store and checked out some 80's pop. Frank doesn't even like pop music, but whatever. It's something to pass the time with. He should totally try listening to some of his mother's Madonna CD's. It's final. Frank is Madonna's biggest fan.

He hasn't listened to her willingly, but he's already making plans on going to the make your own shirt store and getting a shirt that says '#1 Madonna fan'.

"Still trying the whole band thing out?"

"Yeah. Apparently punk Dolly Parton cover bands aren't what anyone likes right now."

Cashier guy and Lindsey talked for awhile. They went on about movies and then comic books,then movies again and about comic books once more. Frank found out that the cashier's name was Ray, and that he works part-time at the comic book store down the street.

Frank knows this store like the back of his hand now and he's only been there a few times. He probably knows this store way better than any of the employees here.

-

Frank knew that he'd come home to his parents arguing. It had become a regular thing since the third grade. When his parents aren't screaming their heads off, they're avoiding each other. Frank's pretty sure that they don't even sleep in the same room. He wouldn't know though, seeing as he's not allowed out of his room after 11 pm. Fucking strict ass parents. Even if he tried to sneak downstairs at night, the creaky hardwood floor would wake his parents.

Frank's father was sitting on the couch with a beer in hand, calm and not paying attention to his wife accusing him of cheating. This happened a lot. Frank's mother was usually the one who starts the fights. She's too insecure. She thinks that all the women want what's in his father's pants.

But that is true. Frank's father has been cheating on her for three years. One time Frank caught him picking up a hooker. Frank wasn't sure if his dad knew at first, but he came home to a new guitar in his room a week later.

His parents really fucking need to learn how to be more quiet. Frank's pretty sure the whole neighborhood can hear them arguing.

“Mom,just be quiet. ” Frank said tiredly, knowing that he would probably get grounded, but he didn't care. He watched his mom turn to him with angry eyes. Telling his mother to be quiet would sure land him a spot in the church program for troubled youth.

“Frank! ” his mother continued shouting, but it was focused on her son this time, “You stay out of this.” Frank sighed and headed towards the stairway. At least he didn't get grounded.

Frank reached his room as his mother resumed screaming . His parents are going to Hell. What if he went to Hell for being related to them? He has been stealing cigarettes and wearing makeup. Yeah. Frank is definitely going to Hell.

He got down on his knees and started the Lord's Prayer, asking for forgiveness. God always forgives. Unless you sold your soul to Satan,then He can't help you there. You're not His anymore after you do that. Not His problem. Frank started his Hail Mary's, but his mind drifted off to Gerard and he had to start again. It was hard for Frank to hear his own prayer over the commotion and occasional shatter from downstairs. Frank guesses that his father started packing his shit up, and his mother was pissed. It happens a lot. Once or twice a month, Frank has to pick up some new plates from Walmart.

Frank got up and flopped down on his cheap mattress with a giant sigh.

“Please, Lord, protect me and my family.” Frank added a few minutes later.

Frank's thoughts switched from his parents relationship problems to the life advice Gerard gave him last week.

Fuck it.

Frank stripped off his bland uniform, replacing it with a Black Flag shirt — that had lost many battles with the laundry machine — and jeans. Now, if he could escape his house with eyeliner that would be great. But if his mother saw him with the dark makeup around his eyes she'd either think he's a devil worshiper or gay and Frank is definitely neither of them. He shoved some money in his pockets and contemplated bringing the stolen eyeliner pencil. That'd probably be a bad idea, he's going to a 'punk but not punk' show. By the time the show is over the eyeliner would be halfway down his face.

Frank noticed that the shouting from downstairs had stopped. His dad probably left to the bar and his mother is most likely pouring herself a tall glass of wine. Fucking alcoholic parents. Frank knew that they both drank heavily. That's the only reason why they're both still together. Frank's father would come home shitfaced and his mother would cry, tell him how sorry she is even though it's not her fault. They'll kiss and won't talk for a while. It's been like that for as long as Frank can remember. Frank has an amazing memory. He's pretty sure he can remember his own birth.

"Frank, dear, your friend-" his mother paused for a second. "Gee, is here!" Frank's mom called up the stairs. What a fucking act. Half an hour ago she had tears streaming down her cheeks and now she's calling Frank "dear" and acting like the perfect mother.

She isn't the perfect mother.

When Frank made it to the living room his guesses were right. There was a bottle of his mothers finest wine and one of those fancy glasses that his mom only brings out when Frank's father has his boss over for dinner, sitting on the coffee table.

Shaking his head, Frank turned towards the kitchen to find his mom bonding with Gerard. Gerard... Was wearing a pleated black and red mini skirt with some combat boots . He had lined his eyes perfectly but sloppily with what looked like red eyeliner and it made Frank think of vampires. Gerard would make a good vampire; maybe he already is one, Frank wouldn’t be too surprised. Gerard didn't put on lipstick this time which kind of bummed Frank out. He liked the lipstick on him. Frank couldn't tell what kind of shirt Gerard was wearing because that same maroon jacket was covering his upper body.

He was hot. Like really fucking hot. So hot that he made Frank look like trash.

His mother started talking to 'Gee' about Frank's potty training experience so Frank half-ran in and rushed Gerard out, almost forgetting to put on his shoes.

"She was just getting to the good part! The fuck, Frank." Gerard whined and reluctantly lead Frank to his piece of shit car that looked like it had never been washed. Frank just shook his head. He didn't need Gerard to know about him pissing on his dad's leg.

They got in the car and Frank swears on his life, it smells just like Dewees' car.

Like,exactly.

Dewees' car smells like sweat, coffee, strong cigarettes and ass. Frank thinks about how both cars could have acquired their somewhat strange scents.

After a few minutes of Gerard trying to start up his car Frank stated, "Your car is a piece of shit." and Gerard just laughed.

"I would take the bus, but no fucking busses run in your area." Gerard said after what seemed like 10 minutes of trying to start the car.

“Dude,where the fuck do you live that’s so far away?” Frank asks, frustrated.

“You'll find out later.”

Frank stays silent for a while after that.

"I can ask my mom if we can take her car..." Frank suggested after about another ten minutes of relentless key turning, and shrugged. Gerard nodded and leaned back in the drivers seat. Frank watched Gerard fish his cigarettes out of his leather jacket's huge ass pockets. Jesus, those pockets are huge. They're probably the size of grandma purses.

Okay, that was over-exaggerated but Gerard's pockets are pretty big.

Frank really likes the way Gerard looks when he smokes. He inhales cutely. And Frank sighs, too busy staring at Gerard to ask for a cigarette of his own.

"Enjoying the view?" Gerard smirks and -oh my God, Frank's face gets all hot and he feels like he's going to explode. God dammit. Frank adverts his eyes to the pack of Marlboros and just goes for it. Frank takes a cigarette out and lights it. Frank's pretty sure he can just take the car without asking his mom. She'll probably take her medication to fall asleep tonight, and she won't need the car since she's drinking. Cool.

All right, Frank's stealing his mothers car.

-

The concert wasn't anything special. Just a bunch of locals in a dark basement. Ladies got in for $5, while dudes had to pay $10. Gerard got in for $5. But Gerard is friends with the person who was working in the ticket booth (not even a booth, just a table with a stamp and ink sitting on top of it.) and got Frank in for $5.

Frank was surprised he didn't see Lindsey there, because there was a band that was all about feminism and punk opening the show. Guess he gets to rub it in her face on Monday. Talk about how he went to a concert with a guy dressed in girl clothes, and how late he stayed out after curfew.

One of the bands that played were a shitty rip off version of Black Flag. All of the songs sounded exactly like TV Party and Black Coffee. Gerard probably felt the same way because he stopped paying attention to the makeshift stage and lit up a cigarette. Frank wasn't even sure if smoking was allowed in the venue.

He watched the crowd start a mosh pit. Well, it looked like they were trying to start one. There was a pipe running down the middle of the crowd. People would grab onto it and run around it. When they tried to have a wall of death, a big bald guy ran into the pipe . It was hilarious. The guy got a huge gash on his head and then everyone had to leave. Frank doesn't know why, but they had to. That's fine anyways. He wasn't sure he'd come out alive. The basement was so hot and stuffy, he could barely breathe properly. It reeked of sweat.

-

"I think the dude started crying." Frank said after awhile of driving around the more rougher parts of the town. Gerard looked at him with a smile on his face and started talking about guys trying to flip up his skirt. (I'm stupid as fuck. I don't understand this either)

"You pick cigarette buds off the ground, right?" Gerard asked. Frank nodded. Again with the nodding. God dammit. The nodding annoys Frank so much. "Don't do that shit. You might get some disease."

Frank said "I can't really buy my own smokes.". Gerard told him he'll buy him any shit that he needs an ID for.

This is probably the best friendship Frank has ever had.

"Stop off at that gas station over there." Gerard pointed. "I'll get you some cigarettes and beer."

-

He woke up to the words divorce, and his first thought was where was he going to get those imported cigarettes that his dad always buys. Frank is so selfish. He hates himself for that. But he can't change that. Everyone is selfish. Just as selfish as he is.

Why did God make everyone so selfish? Why He didn't protect Frank's family, was what Frank wanted to know.

Divorce. A sin.

Was Frank's family even Catholic? Why would they want this divorce? God, Frank is so selfish.

"So," Frank started. "Who am I going to live with?"

He's going to live with one parent and see the other one on the weekends. That's how being the kid in these situations is like, right? The weekend parent will get him shit to make up for the divorce while the other one will go on dates with the whole "I've moved on." shit.

Frank's father looks at him with sad eyes, "It's your choice, boy."


	3. .MAYBE.

.MAYBE. 

Frank stopped caring. He stopped praying as much as he used to. He stopped telling his mom that he loves her. Frank started doing what he wanted; such as smoking in his room (he goes through a can of Febreeze every week) and causing trouble with Lindsey. He also moved. Frank now lives in the shittiest area of Belleville. The suburbs were a tad bit dangerous, yeah, but this area has sirens blaring every half hour. It's fucking shitty. Frank can deal with the sirens and the 50% chance of being jumped, but he can't deal with not getting his morning cigarette. Since he lives halfway across town his mother has to drive him to school. Frank's lungs are probably happy about that, though. He has gotten pretty fuckin' used to Reds. He'd rather gut himself than smoke anymore of that fucking expensive piece of shit cigarettes that his dad buys again.   
"Asshole. Where have you been all week?" Frank heard Lindsey say from behind him. She plopped down on the grass beside him.   
"Divorces are stupid." Frank deadpanned, shoving a cigarette between his lips. Lindsey just sighed and passed Frank a red Bic. Frank brought the flame to the Marlboro. Frank took a long ass drag, and gagged when he inhaled. Fuck, he was so confused. Frank doesn't even know why he's confused. Everything is pretty simple.   
Man, Frank could go for a six pack right about now.   
"Wanna go get drunk?" Frank asked, taking one last drag and handing the smoke to Lindsey.   
"Is that a trick question? Of course I do!" exclaimed Lindsey. "Wait, how are we gonna get booze? You got a fake I.D? If you do, please hook a sister up."   
"Nah. I know a guy." Lindsey finished up the remainder of the Marlboro. Fifteen minutes later Gerard pulled up in his shitty car with some left over Marlboros and a 12 pack in the passenger seat. Frank stood up to greet him and get the beer while Lindsey continued sitting on the grass and looking Gerard over.   
“This is your guy?” She asked, giving him a once over.   
Frank sighed, “Hey, he’s got booze, and we’re thirsty, that should be good enough.”   
Gerard glanced over at Lindsey and leaned in toward Frank. “I’m a person, you know. Not just booze guy.” He said, his coffee-scented breath feeling hot on Frank’s skin. “And I expect you to share.” He plopped down on the grass before Frank could react.   
“So, bring it out!” Lindsey yelled to Frank, motioning toward the twisted metal wreck Gerard called a car. Frank leaned in through the half-cracked window and pulled out the case along with a couple smokes.   
“You know, we should probably find a more, I don’t know, secluded, area for your underage binge drinking.” Gerard suggested.   
“Good idea.” And they all piled into Gerard’s car to find a place to get drunk far from the school.   
“Shit, are those police sirens?!” Gerard turned around in the driver’s seat.   
“Eyes on the road, dumbass!” Lindsey screamed as Gerard barely swerved past the road barrier.   
“But are they coming after us or for some other psychos?” Gerard asked no one in particular. No one answered, and Frank continued sitting lazily in the passenger seat. Sirens were normal here, after all.   
Lindsey piped up, “I think he wants you to pull over, man.”   
“Shit.” Gerard hesitantly pulled his pile-of-junk car onto the shoulder.   
“Sir, do you know how recklessly you were driving back there? Now why is that?” The burly-looking police officer questioned in a seriously frightening tone after looking over Gerard’s tattered license and registration.   
Gerard tried to stay calm, “Ah, sorry, my- um -cousins here were arguing about a paper for science and they were getting too distracting so I turned around for a bit to stop the fight.” The officer raised an eyebrow.   
“So where are you going right about now with your ‘cousins’?”   
“Oh, he’s driving us to school!” Lindsey squeaked quickly from the back. Frank nodded in agreement.   
“Well, looks like you’re all clear. For now.” The officer dropped his snarling demeanor for a short time then returned to rabid dog stature as he walked back to the patrol car. As soon as the officer was gone the car erupted with laughter.   
“That was so fucking close!” Lindsey nearly screamed.   
“Hey, where the hell did you hide the beer for all that?” Gerard turned to ask Frank. Frank stealthily pulled the now quarter-empty pack from under the fabric on his seat.   
“I guess this torn apart car is good for one thing.” Soon enough they reached a reasonable-looking patch of grass far from any place a school administrator would look and started chugging.   
“Shit.” Frank burped, rolling onto Gerard’s lap. “Why did I have to move to the shittiest part of town? Should have stayed with my dad.” It wasn’t a question, more of an ethical statement on Frank’s part, but Gerard answered anyway, swaying slightly as he talked.   
“Because parents suck ASS.”   
“True.” Lindsey was laying a little while away in an especially dead-looking patch of grass but didn’t seem to care. “It’s like a secret rule that all parents have to be assholes.”   
“Huh. Weird.” Frank sat up.   
“What is?” Gerard shifted to ask his now intoxicated friend.   
“Parents.” Frank emphasized, hand gestures and all. Lindsey started laughing. "They were kids too, but now they're parents and fuckin' lame." Frank sounds stoned. What the fuck.   
"That was the most teenager thing I have ever heard someone say." Gerard laid back and lit a cigarette. "You guys go to Catholic school right?" Gerard asked. Frank looked over to Gerard, furrowing his eyebrows and giving a nod. "I haven't been to school in a few years, but when I did go, they'd phone home whenever I'd skip class." Gerard took a long drag of his cigarette, then ashing the cigarette on the bottom of his ratty shoe. "Catholic school shouldn't be so different. You know, other than the uniforms and all the religious shit."   
Frank blinked. "What are you trying to say?"   
"What I'm sayin' is, your school probably phones your parents to tell 'em you missed a few periods."   
Shit. Frank is fucked.   
\-   
"We really didn't think this through." Gerard said while stretching. Everyone was too drunk to drive. Frank sighed and put his head in his hands. Fuck. He is going to be grounded for the rest of his life. His mom will take away everything. Frank will have to help around the church. Say goodbye to your social life Frank, because you're never leaving church. "Where do you live, Frank?" Gerard asked.   
"47 High."   
"Dude! I live around there. Awesome! Let's walk." Gerard got up and dusted off his backside. Lindsey did the same, but adjusted her skirt a little.   
"That's gonna take hours." Frank protested. He was not going to walk home drunk. Gerard just shrugged and started walking. Asshole. Frank rolled his eyes and followed Gerard. Frank wasn't even sure if Gerard knew where he was going. Frank's already pretty out of breath.   
Fuck you, smokers lungs, fuck you and your shit.   
Frank wanted nothing more than to call his mother and ask for a ride. But of course, he's fuckin' drunk off his ass and really craving a cigarette. Can't smoke around your mom while drunk, now can you Frank? The teenager laughed at the thought of smoking in front of his mom. He'd get in so much shit. Frank would get the whole "You're killing yourself slowly!" bullshit. Ms. Iero would blame it all on Frank's father.   
Now, if Frank's father caught him smoking a cigarette, he'd get a "Just don't let it happen again" and a pat on the back. Or maybe Frank's dad would buy him packs. Man, Frank should have picked his dad. He'd have the house to himself and wouldn't have to wake up at ass-o clock every morning. Is it too late for Frank to change his mind? He hoped not.   
Frank imagined his Father talking about him to coworkers.   
(How's your son?)   
(Yeah, my son is doing good. He's a sixteen-year-old smoker. Very proud of him.)   
Frank started full on laughing.   
Lindsey just looked at him like he was insane. Frank probably is, and that just made him laugh even more. Frank wonders if he'd be insane enough to buy him a bed in the psych ward.   
Maybe.   
"What's on your mind, Frank?" Lindsey asks, slowing down to Frank's pace.   
"Cigarettes and psych wards." Frank smiled. "Think I'm crazy enough for the mental hosp? I think so."   
Gerard decided to join in on the conversation. "Not at all."   
"What makes you think that?" Frank asked, looking over to Gerard.   
"You just don't come off as the type of person" Gerard stated, blowing out cigarette smoke. Man. Frank wants some of that.   
"Hey, I could be a fuckin' schizophrenic killer and you wouldn't know." Frank responded and snatched the Marlboro from Gerard.   
Gerard cocked an eyebrow. "Are you a schizophrenic killer?"   
"Not sure yet. Maybe I'm just a killer. Maybe."   
Lindsey scoffed. "What kind of killer? Bug killer? Because you puked when you first saw Victor in Pet Sematary. Doubt you're a killer."   
Frank raised his eyebrows. Amazing friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short and messy
> 
> sorry bout that
> 
> torixx


	4. .pissbag.

.GERARD.  
The younger Way brother sat down next to Gerard, plugging his nose.  
"God, how do you survive in here? Your apartment is a health hazard," Mikey grimaced.

Gerard shrugged, picking up the 2 liter of flat Pepsi and slugging down half of it. Gerard's place isn't that messy. Mikey's just too used to places being clean.  
Mikey reluctantly took the bottle of sludge-like soda from Gerard, examining it for a couple seconds and placing it on the coffee table. Wimp. 

"How long has that been out?" Mikey asked, pointing at the Pepsi. Gerard scoffed.  
"I'm not a pig, Mikey, I bought it this morning." Gerard lied, he bought it yesterday and left it opened on the crowded coffee table for a good 24 hours, but Mikey doesn't need to know that.  
Mikey nodded and reached for the soda.  
"So, did ya get to second base yet?" 

Mikey choked, "Gerard, I'm asexual. How many times do I have to remind you?" said Mikey. Gerard rolled his eyes. "Alicia and I are doing fine. Her dad thinks I'm lying about the whole asexuality thing, though. 'What kind of teenage boy doesn't want to have sex?' fuck off, not all guys want sex."

Gerard nodded. "Would he rather have you fucking his daughter?" 

"I know! He should be relieved that I'm ace." Mikey sunk deeper into the couch with a sigh. "Sex makes me want to gouge my eyes out." 

"The lack of sex I'm getting makes me want to gouge my eyes out." 

Mikey gagged and Gerard just drank the rest of the Pepsi.  
Man, Gerard really missed this. He doesn't really get to hang out with his little brother because of Mikey being in school and Gerard being busy with work. This is the best fuckin' day Gerard has had in awhile. Plus, Mikey lived on the other side of the fuckin' town, and was a broke teenager with no car.  
The two brothers chatted, talking about whatever came to mind. Gerard just hoped, fuck, he even prayed that Mikey wouldn't ask why his apartment smells the way it does. To be honest, Gerard doesn't know why. His projects are frozen. Maybe he left one out and forgot about it. Maybe it's the mold growing by the sink.  
Maybe it's just the apartment. Who knows. Gerard sure doesn't. He can't seem to recall when the place started giving off the rank smell.  
"I should get going; mom'll be worried if I don't get back before dark." Mikey said, standing up and smoothing out his clothes. Gerard checked his watch, reading 5:27. Since it was fall, it would get dark around 6:30.  
"Yeah, I know how she is." Gerard breathlessly said, holding back tears. He's a total fucking sissy. The 21 year old's head was foggy. Fuck, he needs a cigarette.  
Gerard grabbed a Malboro off the table, bringing it to his lips and striking a match and brought the flame to the stick.  
Mikey just looked at the cigarette in disappointment.  
"Or, I could phone ma and tell her I'm staying the night," Mikey suggested. The tears that were about to spill disappeared and Gerard looked up at his brother with a smile. 

\- 

"Wait, so you buy booze and cigarettes for a 16 year old?" Mikey raised his brows. Gerard nodded. "Yet you won't give me a drag. I'm older than the kid, too. Fuck you," the 17 year old rambled and Gerard laughed.  
"You're like, a few months older than him, chill." Mikey rolled his eyes. "Plus, you're my little brother. Not gonna get my brother into smoking."  
"I'm already a second-hand smoker."  
"I don't give a shit. No fucking way I'm giving you a drag, let alone a cigarette." said Gerard. He just didn't want to give away any of his precious Reds to his brother. Yeah, he gives away cigarettes to random people at parties but that's because Gerard doesn't have much for friends and sometimes he gets desperate, you know? Friends come and go, but his younger brother will always be there.  
Sometimes Gerard prefers friends over Mikey. Only when Mikey bitches about wanting a cigarette.  
"Fine, I guess I'll just have to stand outside of a gas station and beg some sketchy people to buy me a pack- or just go around looking for cigarette buds and roll Camels and Marlboros together. Maybe some Pall Malls, too. All of them mixed up without a filter." Said Mikey. He was trying to make Gerard crack. Gerard would rather eat dog shit than smoke Camel or Pall Mall. Too bad for him, Gerard doesn't care about him having to roll nasty cigarettes. Mikey is the fuckin' best at rolling so it shouldn't be so hard. He's just gonna have to deal with shit cigarettes.  
"Hope you enjoy that."  
Mikey scowled. "Come on, please?" pleaded Mikey, making his best attempt at puppy dog eyes.  
"Fuck off." 

\- 

 

Gerard gagged. The back alley smelled like fuckin' month old corpse.  
Corpse.  
Gerard is in need of a new toy. Gerard is pretty greedy. He hasn't really been paying attention to his projects lately. He has been freezing his catches. Pretty unsanitary, to be honest. Gerard's apartment smells like fuckin' shit. The freezer is stained red from the animals. He might as well just throw them all away, no use now that they're frozen.  
That's a shame. The guy got some pretty good shit too. A squirrel, rabbit and an alley cat. All going to waste. Such a fuckin' shame.  
Not a lot of dead things in the back alley. You'd think there'd at least be a dead mouse out, but no. Nothing dead other than the fucking grass. Looking for road kill is so hard sometimes. Maybe he should try catching something living. Watch the life leave the eyes of the animal. Or human. Whatever. He'd let the thing suffer. God, Gerard is a heartless piece of shit.  
Still smells like death.  
As much as Gerard's body disagrees, he loves the smell of rotting corpse. It smells like his apartment. He wonders what his body would smell like once he's dead and gone. Fuck, the thought of stinking up the entire apartment, forcing neighbors to move out, made Gerard let out a maddened giggle. His neighbors were complete shit, anyways. When they finally open the door to Gerard's tiny apartment, fruit flies will swarm around them, and they'll just know. They'll know that he's long gone and can't do shit about it other than say a meaningless sorry to Gerard's family.  
An uneasy feeling washed over Gerard, leaving bad vibes all around him. Back alleys tend to give off that feeling when you reach the middle. The feeling intensifies when its dark out. There could be a fuckin' cannibalistic maniac lurking in the shadows, and you wouldn't know.  
But that's probably just Gerard.  
If you offered Gerard a plate of human meat, he'd gobble that shit right up. You know, you haven't lived unless you've tried everything.  
Fuck, Gerard is the cannibalistic maniac lurking in the shadows.  
He heard footsteps down the alley and bolted back to his apartment. Who walks down back alleys at four in the fucking morning? Vampires. And Gerard didn't feel like being someone's next meal. Not yet. If they want to eat Gerard, then they'll have to make an appointment so Gerard could prepare.  
"Fuck, I'm funny," Gerard said to himself as he reached the back door to his apartment. If anyone was out and heard him talk to himself - actually he didn't want to know. He doesn't like it when people talk about him; positive or not, he just doesn't like it. He doesn't like being remembered, as he believes that once someone is dead, they're no more and shouldn't be talked about. The words "move on" have been repeated in Gerard's brain countless times.  
And that's what Gerard does. He moves on from everything. But Gerard can't keep moving, he's getting tired and wants to rest for awhile. What Gerard needs, is a nice relaxing beer and a one night stand. Or maybe he could have a bottle of Absolut and a shitty relationship based on booze, drugs, Reds and sex. A toxic relationship is what he needs. A self destructive relationship. You always need a little self destruction in life, or else life would be too bland. The thing is, only insane people would go as far as consider going on a date with him. Gerard's hygiene and personality repels people away from him, including his own family. That's totally fine, as Gerard isn't a big fan of being around others.  
Gerard took a deep breath in and started up the stairs. Whatever made him think that renting out a room on the fourth fucking floor was a good idea can rot in hell. Seriously, Gerard's smokers lungs can't handle going up and down 4 steep flights of stairs everyday. If a zombie apocalypse happens, Gerard would be first to die. No way he's going to survive running away from the flesh eating monsters.  
When Gerard finally made it up the stairs he was close to death. Fuckin' stairs are ruining Gerard's life. He could have done something productive within those 10 wasted minutes of climbing stairs, but no, he was a wheezing mess sitting outside of his apartment door. His lungs burned like a volcano, and- oh my God- this is death. This is death. Gerard is dying. Gerard's legs felt so weak. It was like newborn baby skull; soft. Apply a little pressure, and congrats, you've killed a baby. (shit that made no sense)((eh))  
Of course, if Gerard stood up, he wouldn't break his legs. He'd just fall, and perhaps hit his head on the doorknob and knock himself out for a few hours.  
After five more minutes of trying to catch his breath, Gerard got up and went back into his apartment. 

\- 

.FRANK.

Frank never thought about his sexuality, because he never really liked anyone. He's not into people. Dating wasn't his thing. He was either going to marry the person or break up with them, and that kinda fucked him up. Is he into girls? Not sure. Same thing goes for guys. Not interested in any of that. Doesn't matter who you are, Frank will blatantly reject your romantic actions towards him.  
He would rather have friends than a girlfriend or boyfriend. But that could change. The person could come by. Frank highly doubts that though.  
The teenager wants dating to stay universes away from him.  
"Frank," Linda called outside of the 16 year old's door. Frank got up, stalking towards the door and unlocking it then walking back to his bed.  
"What?" Frank asked bluntly. His mom let herself in and stayed by the door.  
"I'm taking your lock. The bathroom needs it more than you do."  
Frank furrows eyebrows and sighs very deeply. No point in protesting. Frank's mom left the room and came back with a toolbox and started to take away Frank's privacy.  
The teenager would rather have her find him masturbating than smoking. At least his mother would accept masturbation, as it comes with being a teenager. Smoking, well, that's just pure idiocity and teenage rebellion.  
"I know about your little skipping sessions too. Don't think you're being let off the hook." With that, Linda walked out without shutting the door.  
Yup, she's out to get him. Taking away his things one by one.  
-  
"She took my lock. She took my fucking lock. How am I supposed to smoke in my room now? Fuck, now I really wish I chose to stay with my dad." Frank vented, pushing around his pile of watery potatoes. Mashed potatoes were the only thing that Frank was able to eat at lunch today. No vegetarian menu.  
"Calm down, buckaroo, just do what I do," Lindsey said and took a bite out of her apple. "Knife it."  
"What, you think stabbing my door is going to keep my mom from walking in on me? If anything, that'll make her want to come in even more."  
Lindsey laughed, "No, you stick the knife through the side of the door frame from inside."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not updating every month like usual - had to write the chapter by myself plus look for a new beta.
> 
> thanks earbudmusic for editing!


	5. .chapter 5.

Frank's mother sat him down on the living room couch, something that he rarely does, seeing as he usually sticks to the kitchen, the bathroom and his bedroom. The teenager gets comfy since he'll probably be sat there for awhile (his mom talks a fucking lot, the last family meeting lasted two hours). Frank should have brought his MP3 out here with him. 

"I can't afford your school anymore." Linda said, breaking the silence. Frank sat up, eyebrows pushed together.

"Can't dad pay for it?" asked Frank. He would rather eat his own hand than go to a different school, especially public school. Frank has never been in public school, and he's not starting now. 

His mother shook her head sadly. "I've talked to your father about it- says it's not worth it if you're just skipping out all the time." The older woman took a sip of her steaming mug of coffee. "There's a school nearby. I've already registered you there. You're starting next week."

At this point, Frank is pissed. He's pissed that he has to switch, and that he has to leave Lindsey. Sure, Lindsey would come over every other weekend, but that's not the same as seeing her at school. Frank's not that worried about Dewees, since he's a total bug and will probably be coming over everyday like usual.

"Think about it- you'll get an extra half hour of sleep, and we won't have to spend so much money on gas anymore. Maybe you'll get a raise in allowance, who knows, but this change will have a positive effect on our family, believe me."

Frank got up and went for his shoes- he needs a smoke, and an adrenaline rush from something preferably illegal.

 

-

 

"Du-dude, I remember now," Dewees stuttered out. They had just smoked an entire gram of pot in Dewees's closet, and Frank feels like everything's in slow motion. Frank nodded, which caused him to feel his brain. He can actually feel his brain in his skull right now, and it kinda freaks him out a little. "I was gonna say that we should hang out in mom's garden. The grass feels amazing while stoned. Plus, I can't breathe right in here," Dewees suggested, and Frank nodded. 

This was not the kind of adrenaline rush Frank was looking for. Everything's too slow and Frank doesn't know if he's real or not. He could be dreaming right now- sure feels like it. The teen must look crazy, moving slowly and staring at random objects all wide-eyed (not so wide-eyed, considering he's stoned as shit right now). Frank feels like he's been stoned for 4 hours but really, it's been 5 minutes since Frank took that last hit from the shitty lung Dewees made.

"Shit," Frank slurred out, flopping down on Dewees' bed. "I don't think I can make it out there, felt like a fuckin' hour just walking over here." Dewees sat down on the floor, making carpet angels and smiling. Frank's really enjoying Dewees's bed. He feels as if he's melting, and his ears are only focused on the sound of his heartbeat and Dewees making carpet angels. "Has anyone ever told you that you have a really comfortable bed?" 

-

Frank was burnt out. All he wanted to do was sleep, but he still had to take a 45 minute bus ride back home. 

Frank's thoughts gravitated to the possibility of being damned to hell, and he soon became very worried. Frank wasn't a bad kid, he had Jesus in his heart and knows that his home dog JC loves him, but he's still pretty damn scared. His thoughts are usually invaded by wishes of going to hell, which scares the shit out of him, because he doesn't want to go to hell, Frank just wants to go to Heaven- fuck, he's even fine with Purgatory, just not hell.

He has these weird thoughts in his brain where there's a thought of Satan, and it terrifies him. He knows that Satan exists, yeah, but there's always a little voice in his head that goes 'I love Satan! What a dude!', and he can't deal with that. Frank has tried praying, trust him- he has, but they just can't seem to go away and that's why he's scared of going to hell. Frank absolutely hates those thoughts. He just want's to love God and live an easy life, but man, these thoughts are scaring the shit out of him.

What did Frank do to deserve these thoughts? Nothing. Shit, nothing. 

And then it started to rain, but Frank didn't bother seeking shelter from the rain because he could care less about getting sick- at least it'll give him a reason to avoid public school. Surely, Frank looked like an idiot- he could feel stares aimed at him from all directions, and usually Frank would stare right back, but the kid had too much on his mind and he didn't even know where his bus stop was. 

He found himself outside of a ratty diner, deciding that it would be smart to go in and call his mom and ask for a ride. But... Frank really didn't want to go home. He knew that if he went home, he'd have to face his mother and he really didn't want to see her right now.

So, Frank dug a few quarters out of his pocket and stuck it in the payphone, dialing Lindsey's number and asking if he could crash at her place. 

"Of course, dude! Where're you?" Lindsey asked from the other end. Frank looked around, still not sure. 

"That's the thing, I'm lost. I'm at a diner that smells like stale cigarettes."

There was a long pause from the other end of the phone which led Frank to believe his time limit ended but Lindsey crushed that thought because her voice was coming in through the phone again. 

"What does the place look like?" she asked. 

"Uh, pretty small actually. Pictures of random people everywhere. Looks kinda old-school," Frank shrugged.

"Got it. On my way." Lindsey hung up.

Frank sat down in a booth, still completely unsure as to what just happened, and just reached for his soaked pack of Marlboros. 

-

"You'll have to climb in through my window. My mom would kill me if she knew I had a boy over." Lindsey said, grabbing her keys out of her pocket. Frank nodded. Lindsey's mom was pretty strict- something that Frank's dad lacked. 

Frank wasn't looking forward to climbing through Lindsey's small window, but he'd rather not go home and face his mother who was probably worried sick and sleeping with a bottle of wine and a phone book next to her.

He walked to the side of the bungalow, making sure not to step on any plants or trip on a wild hose as Lindsey entered her house, probably talking to her mom and making it seem as if she wasn't sneaking a boy into her room and that she didn't just have a cigarette on the walk back from the nearby diner.

When Frank reached the window- heart racing, already planning an escape if her mom decided to do some fucking evening gardening or whatever, Lindsey was already sliding her window open and handing him a stool to step on and boost himself up.

The rest of the evening was spent watching old horror films and talking shit about kids at school. 

-

 

"Our Father in heaven,

hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come,

Thy will be done,

on earth, as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread,

and forgive us our trespasses,

as we forgive those who trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation,

but deliver us from evil. 

Hail Mary, full of grace.

Our Lord is with thee.

Blessed art thou among women,

and blessed is the fruit of thy womb,

Jesus.

Holy Mary, Mother of God,

pray for us sinners,

now and at the hour of our death.

Amen." 

 

 

Frank prayed, head bowed along with all the other students in his class. This is what Frank will miss; everyone praying before lunch together. He knows that he'll have to pray alone at his new school, and that really bums him out. The only thing Frank is looking forward to is ditching the uncomfortable uniform. The lunch bell and hungry teens pushing their way to the door broke Frank from his thoughts and he soon followed suit, making sure he was the last one out of class so he wouldn't have to be caught up in the middle of a hallway mosh pit led by teenagers who all wanted to get to lunch. 

Five minutes of shoving later, Frank finally got to his locker and grabbed his sad crumpled bag that carried his lunch, and fuckin' bolted out of the hall, heading towards the spot where he meets Lindsey for lunch. The 16 year old hated the rush, he hated the class change rush- fuck, he hated all of the rushes and wanted everyone to chill. Frank considered letting pot fumes through the vents one time. Still doesn't sound like a bad idea, if you ask Frank. Catholic or not, these fucks are violent in the halls.

When Frank got to the back of the school, Lindsey was pacing. 

"Shit- are you okay?" Frank asked, worried about his best friend. Lindsey's the type of girl that's all 'fuck your shit, fuck this shit, I don't care', so seeing her pace was something that Frank wasn't used to. 

Lindsey turned to Frank and grabbed his wrist. "You have to see this." and with that, she dragged him out the back doors, making him drop his lunch and not even letting him stop to pick it up.

Frank couldn't believe how fast Lindsey was walking in those shoes, and how no one has dress-coded her yet. 

Now that Frank could see her face properly, his friend wasn't worried, she was entertained, almost laughing, which confused the shit out of him. 

 

-

Gerard was sitting on his car, cigarette between his lips and looking down at his little Samsung flip phone with concentrated eyes. 

Right now, all Frank could think about is why Gerard had to show up now, especially in that get up, and how hungry he was. 

Frank didn't know whether he should say 'hi' or ignore Gerard. Obviously, Gerard is there for Frank, so if Frank just walked away that may be the end of their friendship, and Frank isn't up for losing friends. 

"Do you got your phone on you? I need to take a picture of this." Lindsey asked excitedly, dragging Frank in closer. 

Frank chose not to fight against Lindsey's grip and simply tried hiding behind her with his small fringe hiding part of his face, which clearly wasn't working because Gerard was now calling Frank's name and everyone was looking at the kid, including Lindsey. 

"Frank! Baby, over here!" Gerard called, snapping his phone shut and stuffing it in his shirt. Great. Just what Frank needed. Turning away and pretending he didn't hear Gerard would totally be a dick-move, but Frank really wants to go back and pick up his lunch and hide in the boys locker room for the rest of the day, so he attempted to do just that but because the world hates him today, he accidentally locked eyes with Gerard and it was too late. 

Lindsey confidently walked over to Gerard, bumming a cigarette and sitting herself beside him on the hood of the shitty car that didn't seem to look at all that happy with two humans sitting on it's already dented hood. 

Frank was fucked now; he wanted to spend his last day with Lindsey, but by the looks of it, Lindsey wants to play a game of hooky with Gerard. He could still make a run for it, Frank could just wave and walk back to the school and have a good last day lunch, but Lindsey would most likely bitch at him for putting shitty sandwiches before her, and Lindsey is good at holding grudges and guilt-tripping, so not going with Lindsey would be a bad idea. 

With a deep breath in, he began walking towards them, scavaging his brain for a decent excuse on why he can't hang out with Gerard but every excuse was too rude and 'sorry dude, gotta ditch, school's calling' wouldn't work because Lindsey knows that Frank would jump at the opportunity to skip class.

Frank doesn't even know why he doesn't want to hang with Gerard. It's not like Gerard is annoying or anything like that- he's pretty fucking cool if you ask Frank. Maybe Frank is just having an off-day, you know? It's his last day of school and he hasn't had a cigarette since yesterday morning. Or maybe it's because Gerard is 5 years older than him and wearing a skirt so short, it makes Frank reconsider his whole 'fuck dating' thing. Frank has no clue which one it is that's setting him off, so he's just gonna go with the off-day one. 

So when Frank makes it to the two, he just stands there with his hands in his front pockets, aware of all the people watching. 

"What's up, Frankie?" Gerard asks, totally into this whole 'Gee' character. Frank rolls his eyes at the nickname and cracks a smile.

"Don't call me Frankie - makes me seem like I'm 5." Lindsey scootches over, giving Frank some room to sit down and passed him the remainder of the cigarette.

"Whatever. I was thinking on taking you delinquents out for the day, maybe back to my place?" Gerard asks. 

"I'm up for it as long as I get free cigarettes." Lindsey says, grabbing another stick from Gerard's pack. Gerard takes the cigarette from Lindsey's mouth and puts it back in the pack.

"Fuck off, you only get cigarettes if you come with me." Gerard says, shaking his head and stuffing the pack of Marlboros in the waistband of his skirt. 

Frank looked at Lindsey with a look that said 'please, fuck no' but apparently he's not good at talking with facial expressions because next thing he knew, they were driving off to Gerard's place. 

Lindsey got shot-gun this time, leaving Frank in the backseat with a sea empty packs of cigarettes and what he thought looked like a dead squirrel. 

What Frank needed right now was a good cigarette, and he needed to be anywhere other than Gerard's fucking car with his goddamn cigarettes and short skirt that drove Frank crazy, but Frank has no cigarettes and he can't just roll out of Gerard's moving vehicle.

This whole 'screw relationships' thing wasn't working out. Frank was confused; was he gay? No fucking clue. All he knows is that Gerard looks so fucking good in that skirt and that he needs to get rid of all these unholy thoughts. 

So when Frank was sitting on Gerard's couch with a cigarette and bottle of coke in hand, he stared at the floor, occasionally looking up at Lindsey when she was talking. 

After reciting the Lord's Prayer for the 10th time in his head, Frank finally looked up at Gerard, and boy, he looked amazing. Gerard had changed into sweats and a ratty Led Zeppelin shirt.

 

 

"So, sorry if this comes off as rude or something, but are you gay?" Lindsey asked Gerard.

"Yeah, and don't worry about it. Get it all the time." Gerard said, grabbing his coffee mug and taking a sip. "What about you?" he asked.

"Oh, I'm autosexual." Lindsey replied. Maybe Frank was autosexual. He was only attracted to Gerard anyways. And it's not like he wanted to date Gerard, he just really fucking likes the way the man looks. Maybe it's just Frank's hormones. Gerard is feminine, so Frank's confused teenage mind likes that and wants to do stuff to Gerard dressed in a skirt.

But Frank also likes wearing dresses and looking pretty and he doesn't know what that part means just yet.

"Aren't you Catholic?" Gerard asks Lindsey.

"So? In my opinion, I think God created masturbation to keep us away from sex before marriage," she responds. "What about you, Frank?" Lindsey nudges her friend.

"I don't know," he responds, but Lindsey and Gerard clearly don't believe that. He glares at the two. "I don't know," Frank says sharply, hoping they don't try pushing it out of him because he really doesn't know what he is and he doesn't want to know and just continue being confused. All Frank needs is God. He doesn't need relationships. 

Gerard just shrugs and flicks on his TV, putting on some random movie station with fucking 16 candles playing.

"If we're gonna watch this movie, I'm gonna need a bottle of something hard."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg im so sorry this is super late


	6. .poo.

Gerard watched the rain droplets run down his windshield, taking his shaking hand up to his mouth and sucking the last of the smoke from the cigarette held between his two fingers and then shoving the butt out the tiny crack in the window. He was cold as fuck, confused, and feels like this moment could be a really cool scene in a movie. Hopefully the masked-murderer jumps out at him from the backseat soon, because he's getting pretty bored waiting for Lindsey.   
The girl had told him to wait parked for all the way down her street. Gerard thinks that she's just using him for his cigarettes, but she's good company and always bringing in the best vibes he's felt in awhile.   
They've started hanging out without Frank more often, as Frank hasn't gotten any free-time due to switching schools. Gerard enjoys being with Lindsey, the two of them, they could talk endlessly about anything, be it typical teenager shit (Gerard may be 21, but he still relates to teenage problems all too well) or the bands they love all too much, they can talk about everything and not get bored.   
Gerard doesn't feel like hanging with her today, he doesn't feel like hanging with anyone today, and maybe it's because he's such a goddamn recluse, but honestly, Gerard feels like shit, he feels like he's the weather no one likes and he just wants to be alone for awhile. But he's already out of his area and Lindsey's paying his gas and usually radiates good vibes, so really he should stay out, because he knows that he'll just have a fit if he goes back home.   
After what felt like an hour, Lindsey finally hopped in the passenger side of his car and lit a cigarette.   
"Wanna do somethin' crazy, stupid, and rebellious?" she asks, exhaling the smoke right after.   
"It depends," replies Gerard.   
"On what?"   
"I'm not gonna tag a church, or anything else," says Gerard, only to remember that Lindsey is Catholic and wouldn't even come close to thinking of vandalizing a church. "Oh shit, sorry, I usually forget that you're religious."   
"It's cool," Lindsey nods. "But the crazy stupid rebellious thing I was talking about is getting tattoos."  
Gerard's eyes widen. No fucking way he's letting a needle near his body, fuck, he's not letting a needle near his soul.   
"How about you get a tattoo and I wait in the car while it goes down," Gerard suggests, feeling goosebumps pop up from the thought of a needle touching his skin. "Three blocks away."  
"That's not as fun, but I'll go for it."   
-  
"I still don't think this is a good idea. How did you manage to book an appointment? You're like, 17," Gerard shook his head. Tattoo's are beautiful, don't get him wrong, but the process is terrifying and puts him in a mood to slam his head against a wall until his skull breaks and his brains are sliding down the wall.   
"I'm friends with the artist, jeez, I should've asked Frank to do this with me, he's all about tattoos," said Lindsey.  
"Why didn't you?" Gerard asked.   
"He lives far. Not worth it," Lindsey said, picking at the loose thread sticking out of her sleeve.  
Gerard lives in the same area as Frank, probably a five minute walk away from the kids house, but then again he has a car and Frank is stuck busing places with his chump change.

 

-

Honestly, Frank doesn't know why he got all fussy about this whole public school shit, it's his second week in and it's great. He gets to choose what he wants to wear everyday and has got in the cool punk group. Sure, the teachers suck and there's no vegetarian menu, he enjoys it here.   
The punk clique he's in may be cool, but it also kind of sucks, to be honest. They're all non-believers, making Frank want to tear his hair out, because the Lord exists and he wants them to believe in Him but he doesn't want to force it on them. Plus, they make really offensive jokes. One of them did a stick n poke of the satanic cross, and it really annoys Frank. He would totally be like "you guys will all regret not listening to me later" but he doesn't feel like being kicked out of his friend group, as they're the only ones in the school who'll talk to him.   
Frank feels like his friends are only into him because he wore an Operation Ivy shirt to school on his first day. Like they only let him into their group because of his music taste, which is a shitty way to judge a person because they could have the worst personality ever.   
But whatever. His punk group is the last thing on his mind right now.   
Frank stared in the mirror of the boys room, he looked especially dead today — which wasn't really a bad thing, to be honest — and washed his hands for the fifth time, just to make sure he got all the high school bathroom off his hands. Shit's nasty.   
"Come here often?" a voice asked from beside him, startling him. He looked over to find a boy with long, greasy black hair and an unlit cigarette between his lips.   
Frank turned the taps off and dried his hands on his jeans.   
"No, actually, this is probably my fourth time in here." responded Frank. The dude lit his cigarette and took a drag, blowing smoke right at Frank (not that he minded much).   
"Really? It's fuckin' October, where do you keep all that piss during the day?" the dude asked. "I'm Bert, by the way." Bert said, sticking his hand out to shake. Frank shook his hand (and considered washing his hands a sixth time.)  
"Frank. And I just moved here like, two weeks ago." Bert nodded and offered the cigarette to Frank, and he just shook his head.  
"Don't smoke? I do get those 'good boy' vibes from you, ah yes, that explains it." Bert pointed to the wooden Jesus bracelet that was around Frank's wrist and to the black rosary that poked out of his shirt.  
"Nah, I do smoke, just not shitty Camel menthols." Hanging with Gerard got him hooked on Marlboro's and turned him into a cigarette snob.  
"Ah, it's cool. I totally relate to that, I usually smoke Pall Mall and Marlboro blacks but I ran out so I just bummed this one off of Bob — you should meet him, he's super cool. I don't know jack shit about you, but you'd probably like him."   
Frank watched Bert smoke and thought about pulling out one of his own cigarettes but decided against it since he'd already had two smokes today and it was only 11 AM.   
"Wanna stick with me today?" Bert asked, dropping the remainder of the cigarette on the floor and grinding his shoe over it   
Frank thought about it, this Bert guy seemed alright, better than the group he's in, to be honest.   
"Sure."  
-  
So far, Frank's noticed that Bert is a stoner (not that he minds, he's kind of a pot head too) and is good at keeping conversations going. They have pretty much the same music taste, ranging from punk to the fucking blues.   
It was lunchtime now, and his group was staring him down from across the cafeteria. Frank was sat with Bert's group of friends, who all turned out to be stoners too.   
"No, I'm tellin' you, Ms. Rose totally has a huge boner for me," the big dude they called Bob said, eyes glazed and pink.   
"Just because she doesn't bother you for not participating doesn't mean she wants to bone you, she's probably scared that you'll like, hurt all the other students while doing squats," the other dude said. His name was Mikey. He had stupid glasses but Frank dug them, he dug Mikey too, but he thinks that his glasses are cool and wants a pair himself.  
"Dude, she talked me into staying in dance, she fucking wants this dick."   
And then all the attention was put on Frank.   
"Why do you believe in that crap?" Bob asked, motioning towards Frank's Jesus bracelet.  
"Because He sacrificed Himself for all of us, he's the most loving dude ever," Frank replied.  
Mikey just shook his head. "I prayed for my brother to be happy and it didn't work. It's not real," he said and took a bite out of his sandwich.  
"Then maybe it was something he could've fixed himself. The Lord doesn't have to do everything for us, you know. I mean he did enough already, giving us life and opening the gates of Heaven," said Frank. "It's real in my heart. I hope that all of you find Jesus later in life because from my fifteen minutes of sitting here, you guys are pretty cool and I definitely want to hang out with you in the afterlife." The table was silent for awhile until Bert made an approving look.  
"See this is why I invited you to hang with us, you stick up for what you believe in. Fucking stand up guy, I must say," Bert said, and took a swig of his can of juice.  
"I have to agree," said Bob. "I think we can add you as a permanent member of the little group we have goin' on here."  
Frank chuckled and finished the rest of his crap lunch, an apple and an expired granola bar.   
Yeah, Frank liked it here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't have a plot so this fic will be put on hold for awhile


End file.
